Utopia
by Wynter's Fall
Summary: Haymitch Abernathy is selected for the 50th Hunger Games, tossed in a battlefield that no-one expected, he struggles to survive and return home.


Hey guys this is a novel centred around Haymitch's Games, I was reading Catching Fire again when I saw his games being watched and I really wanted to make this. Expect update every fortnight or once a week if I get time. Assignments and stuff might drag me down, Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with the Hunger Games Series

Chapter One

I looked at the television in the main market as I walked down the streets of District Twelve. There stood the Capitol in all its grandeur. Buildings so tall that it looked like they split the heavens themselves, flowing waterfalls throughout the city, buildings of gold that shone once they were illuminated by the morning sun. It was such a stark contrast to what life was like here, I watched as the people waddled around the city made up in their ridiculous outfits their bodies showing all the tell-tale signs of plastic surgery. Don't believe me? Then here's a question for you, what people throughout the whole world that we live in now have green skin? And no they're not aliens, as far as I know anyway.

They say the Capitol stands for hope, peace and the future. Well that's what the Capitol say to us anyway and we being the mindless brutes we are apparently believe every word of it. It's a lie. The Capitol stands for greed, power and corruption. Whatever you want in the Capitol you can have so long as you have a little cash. It is pure evil, these guys are the like the stories you hear when you're a kid. When you're told that monsters are in the woods and that they'll kill you if you go in to them, or the stories you here about children being taken from their Districts as snacks if they leave their house.

Of course those are all stories just to get kids to listen to their parents but if you were to compare eighty per cent of the residents of the Capitol to anything then those monsters would be your best bet. All they want is entertainment and the bloodier the entertainment the better it is according to the Citizens. As I kept walking down the street there wasn't a single person in sight but that was understandable. Most families would probably be spending time with their children because no-one knew what happened, one minute you could be sitting there with you son and in a few hours time you wouldn't be able to see them again. That was what Reaping Day did to the families of District Twelve, happy for three hundred and sixty four days of the year and terrified for two hours of the next before it continued again in a recurring cycle until your child turned eighteen or your child was chosen.

Reaping Day wasn't the best day one could experience if you were from District Twelve, especially if your name was in there about forty times out of a few hundred boys slips. _May the odds be ever in your favour_. I thought as I watched the Peacekeepers arrive from the trains as I continued on my way down the street. This year's Escort a hideous woman called Rowena Miller who was dressed in the most disgusting yellow I'd ever seen. It looked like someone had vomited all over her dress, left it to stain and vomited again. I actually found it rather funny and I chuckled as she turned and gave me a menacing glare daring me to make a comment, the peacekeepers twirling their batons eyes fixed on me.

Rowena was probably one of the most successful and well connected Escorts in the Hunger Games, she'd been on the scene for forty years working for the main districts, One, Two and Four or the careers as we called them. However being seventy years old even with the Capitols treatments and fashion Rowena had lost her appeal with the Game-makers and as such she had been shafted here as a not so subtle hint to retire. Turns out though that she didn't take hints very well because here she was still smiling cheerfully unlike most other Escorts that had come through here since my years in the Reaping. Every person hated Twelve, it was impossible to get noticed here. No-one volunteered and we were normally the first tributes to go and no that didn't mean we were the first to go to the shops, we were the first to die.

You see The Hunger Games wasn't about eating food despite the name which to be honest I always found to be pretty stupid but anyways what were they going to call it, the Watch as Kids Kill Each Other Games? The Death Games? I just called it murder and most people agreed with me, plain and simple that's what it was. For a District Twelve Tribute the Games was nothing more than a glorified death that would be watched by millions of people frothing at the mouth in enjoyment and who'd abuse the Capitol if they didn't put on a good enough 'show'. Last year the Game-maker had been hung because the games had been far too boring according to the Capitol audience. It wasn't his fault that a guy had got an automatic rifle dropped in because a few rich people had sponsored him. Really they should have hung the people, they were the bastards that had thought it would provide good entertainment.

The Hunger Games in case you didn't know consisted of several days of hunting, gathering and some good old fashioned killing. A person hunting another, gathering a group and then killing the people they found before turning on the people they'd been working with all for a life of luxury. I don't understand how those people could live with themselves after what they've done. Every year you see them on T.V waving at the audience like they're heroes. Maybe to the Capitol there heroes, maybe to the districts they're in as well but to me? To me they're worthless, I see these people and I want to kill them on the spot. They can keep living like they're Gods but at the end of the day at least we still have a soul and they don't.

I headed home and my younger brother Nile ran up and gave me a hug as I put the bread down on the table. I returned it and we cut up a few slices and we took some in to my mother who was ironing our clothes so we looked presentable, couldn't have us looking bad on Reaping Day could they? The Peacekeepers had even been giving orders to beat those who were deemed to be wearing clothing that was too casual for their liking a few years ago. Now everyone turned up in suits, dresses. Whatever could be classified as smart clothing to avoid punishment. Honestly you would think clothing would be the least of the Capitols issues but honestly these guys made Hitler look like an easy going bloke when it came to fashion.

My mother was beautiful and I'd been told by many of the men down the street that she had been even beautiful when she was younger. My father had died in the coal mines three months ago and she was still recovering. Sometimes we'd find her staring off into space for hours at a time, sobbing herself to sleep, she'd even tried to take her own life a few days after she's been told. We'd kept her away from the Peacekeepers because if they'd known then we would have been taken to the orphanage and there was no way that we would survive there. I guess that summed up my expectations of what would happen to me if I was ever picked for the games, If I was terrified of going to an orphanage imagine what I would be like if I found out I had to enter an arena with twenty-four people hell-bent of killing me?

She finally finished our clothes and I slipped my shirt on before changing into a pair of pants. The shirt was a light blue with a collar and buttons whilst the pants were a dark grey. I got some water out of the tap and ran it through my hair flattening the parts that stood up. I then turned to look at Nile who was dressed in a suit done up like as though it was a wedding, it looked so ridiculous that I burst out laughing before I removed his coat and we began to make our way down to the Reaping. Mom couldn't get there due to the fact that she had to work but she gave us a hug as we made our way out and I returned it knowing this could be the last time I could ever see her again.

You know I don't understand why adults have kids in this district in the first place, what kind of person would willingly have children when in twelve years time they could have to watchas their child was thrown in a ring to be killed? I kind of resented my parents because of that, I still loved them but what was the point of me even being born? All I'm going to have for my life is coal on my boots and a home before I eventually die of age or starvation, illness etc; or I'm going to die in the arena if I get chosen.

You might think that most of the reasons people from our district die is because of old age but you are massively wrong. In District Twelve most people are lucky to see the age of sixty. Most die of starvation but of course the Capitol can't say that. You turn around the corner to see someone laying against a wall, thin, frail and unmoving. Of course starvation is never the actual reason someone dies according to reports, it's always pneumonia or exposure to the elements they can never say the actual truth but everyone knows it. I don't know why they even bother pretending anymore and I bet that they don't either, it's like we're all playing a game trying to trick each other with our own ignorance.

We made our way from our house as the other children from the Seam began to come with us their faces sodden and downcast. I couldn't help but feel for all of us as we all knew that someone from our neighbourhood was going to get picked. It never happened to someone from the town unless they were extremely unlucky. You see atop of the annual entry which meant that on top of the four slips that had gone in for me I could also take tesserae which was a year's supply of oil and wheat for me the catch? I had to put my name in twice, but on top of that I could also take tesserae for my family. So over the last four years my name had been entered sixteen times to be exact and this year it would be nineteen. I'd stopped Nile from taking it though, there was no way in hell he was getting picked and I wasn't going to increase his chances of selection.

We made our way over to the centre of the town as my friend Demaniel made his way over to me. He was my age but compared to me Dem was a freakin mountain. We'd often joked that if he'd ever be picked he'd probably crush the kids as he stepped off the blocks. We walked in silence though, the odds weren't really in our favour, Dem had thirty-three entries in the games because he had seven younger siblings, four brother and three sisters. His parents had insisted that he didn't take one for them as well. As we walked though it wasn't an uncomfortable silence to be honest, it was more one of respect and companionship. It was like as though we already knew one of us would be picked even when the names hadn't even been drawn.

We finally reached the centre of the district as we lined up outside the Hall of Justice in our age groups, Nile left us to enter his group as he registered with the Gamemakers marking his entry with a drop of blood before hurrying over and standing in line with his group, the kids were exactly like us as we made our way over. No-one spoke, you could barely even hear anyone breathe, if a pin dropped then the noise would be deafening amongst the quiet and terrified crowd. As we stood there the doors to the Justice Centre opened up and Rowena made her way out greeting the crowd like as though it was a tremendous party that she was hosting as she gazed upon our somber and disinterested faces with thinly veiled annoyance.

As she looked at us you could see her sizing us up, looking for potential winners out of a small, weedy crowd. Her eyes rested on me and Dem briefly before she looked up again staring at the cameras with a beam on her face, the strain of the smile indicated that she mustn't have had much success which I wasn't sure to be happy or sad about. Happy that we'd denied her of a potential victor and a straight shot to fame for her or sad about the fact that the greatest escort in the games was about to give up already. She coughed to clear her throat and then began the reaping of the Fiftieth Hunger games. Alongside her were Mayor Cresswater and the last victor of the hunger games for district twelve, a forty year old man named Chester Kilder.

Chester if you looked at him wasn't that impressive at first glance. He was lean, short, and to be honest didn't look like he could hurt a fly. But when you looked harder you could see scars covering his body, his arms rippled with the slightest movement the veins looking as though they were about to explode out of his skin. He had a large scar above his left eyebrow and he had this stare that whenever you looked at him your whole body screamed dangerous. In short he wasn't someone you exactly wanted to meet in a dark alleyway. Then again that was probably why he had won, I'd watched his Games before in a special screening on television.

The 26th Hunger Games had been brutal, you saw his chariot ride in which he and his partner had been dressed as charcoal with the chariot on fire. The training highlights were dull as he walked around and did a bit of everything. He seemed like the Jack of All Trades, good at everything but never excelling. Then his trial had been shown, five throwing knives all hitting the bullseye, a fighting instructor being stretchered out with a broken leg, the man in no other words was lethal. The Game-makers didn't really need to see any more to decide his mark, unsurprisingly a ten the highest mark ever received yet.

The Games were extremely short that year. The tributes had been placed in a factory that was probably two kilometres in total. Chester's idea? He hid in the ventilation system grabbing weapons after each death and slowly building an arsenal until the last ten tributes were left. The final showdown between Chester and the two tributes of District Two, he had been forced to the ground as they had poured acid all over his body. He should have been dead but he'd retrieved armour the day before from his sixth victim. The armour had been reduced to ribbons and the leftover acid had still burned him but he'd stayed alive and faked his death as the two fought on with swords.

When one killed the other and turned around to cheer in the camera that was when he'd made his move. A single blade thrown into the back of the kid's head and he was the victor. Regardless of anyone's opinion Chester was considered to have played one of the greatest Games ever and for the first five years everyone had bet on his kids to come through as the victors. Soon enough they realized that Chester had been a miracle. A once in a District kid and now District Twelve barely ever got sponsors except for the odd occasion where a kid made a miracle run and a man with two much money to burn had laid a bet. But since Chester had won no kid from district twelve had ever made it to the final eight of the competition.

I was jolted back into reality as Rowena began the speech about the Capitol and it's graciousness to let our districts continue to exist and the honour they bestowed upon us to supply them with the games. Cresswater then read the Treaty of Treason, which in my opinion was a completely ridiculous agreement and I could not believe that twelve people had signed it. The treaty was the agreement reached between the Capitol and the Districts. Every year we gave them seventy-five per-cent of our produce and tax was half of what we earned on a yearly basis. If they suspected any act of defiance was to occur they could 'terminate with extreme force' and every year we were to supply them with two children to be slaughtered for their own entertainment. The list went on and on, it was twenty metres of Parchment and hung in the Justice Hall as well as being situated in every classroom of the school.

Soon enough she began to talk about something else and my interest was piqued immediately. "The 50th Hunger Games is a special event for the World." She announced looking at us all like we should be cheering about the fact. Realizing our obvious lack of interest she continued a brief flash of annoyance crossing her face. "This year marks the Second Quarter Quell, the Quarter Quell results in new stipulations and rules being enforced for this year's games, the Quarter Quells rules are drawn out of the Capitol in a live screening. Our new president, President Snow will now make the announcement." She finished and we looked up at the screen as the president stood there acknowledging the crowd.

The first thing that came to your mind about President Snow was white, white as snow and now that's not a pun. The man was dressed in a white suit, he had white hair and a white beard as well. The only thing that wasn't red about him was the rose on his suit and his lips. Blood red lips that with the pale untanned skin it looked like a corpse with lipstick. The way he stood was rigid, stiffened like as though he was in pain but looking at him he was the picture of perfect health. He put his hands up in greeting and the crowd quietened at once. He looked straight at the camera with an air of smugness about him, like as though he knew he was in control, we were all pawns in a game designed for his amusement.

"This year marks the 50th Hunger Games and the Second Quarter Quell!" He announced and the crowd erupted into wild and untamed cheers excited at the prospect of the Hunger Games returning for the year. "The rules of the Quarter Quell are different from usual Hunger Games though." He announced and the cheering stopped as each member of the audience craned their bodies closer to the microphone so they could here this latest piece of news. "When the Treaty of Treason was created the Quarter Quell was created, every twenty five years a piece of paper would be selected from the Jar of Choice. Today the second will be chosen."

He then reached into the jar and pulled out a scrap of paper, he then turned to the crowd and read. "In honour of the loss of lives that the Capitol suffered, this year's hunger games will be made up of Two boys and Two girls from each district."

The audience in the capitol slowly burst into cheers as they digested this news, the faces around the districts was one of intense fear as they realized that the chance of one of their children being picked had now doubled. I looked at Dem and he looked straight ahead refusing to glance at me his knuckles bone white as he clenched his hands the force must of been like a vice as tremors began to rocket through his body. I looked around and saw Nile staring at me and I gave him a small smile of reassurance but now I was having doubts. He had one name in a jar, it couldn't happen logic dictated it but now they had two tries. To tries to kill me and my brother for their own amusement, the odds are getting worse and worse.

Rowena looks at the crowd grinning at the news evidently delighted with the outcome, then again all the Escorts would be. The news meant double the screen-time and double the screen-time meant more of a chance to impress the Gamemakers and earn a promotion. "Ladies first." She said cheerfully and headed over to the names which were all piled up in a bowl. She reached her hand in a deliberated for a second deciding which one to pick, eventually she settled for a name at the edge of the bowl and pulled it out. She opened up the slip of paper and read. "Greta Lonmore!" Clapping merrily as the Peacekeepers carried a fifteen year old girl out of the line and she came to stand on stage.

As I looked at her you could see the shock on her face, it was like a nightmare and she couldn't figure out how to stop sleeping. She was pushed on stage and stood there as her mother sobbed on the floor before screaming. "Murder! It's bloody murder!" We could only watch as the Peacekeepers forced her out of the Square as she screamed again and again. We all agreed with her but kept our own opinions to ourselves, the last thing we needed was the Capitol to get down here and see what was going on. We were able to get away with so much compared to the other districts, a larger slice of freedom than what anyone else had.

She then headed to the boys bowl an chose a name, this time it was exactly from the middle. She then made her way to the stage, we tensed fear on our faces as she unfolded the paper every action seemed to be slower than usual. After what seemed like an eternity was the name revealed. "Gary Wharburn!"

We both relaxed but not by much, it meant we were both safe but there was still one more name to be drawn, it was the only reason we weren't celebrating yet. I looked for Gary and he was led up to the stage. He was thirteen, short, weedy and he had a bruise on his right cheek. He was part of the orphanage in the district and that was the reason we had been so terrified of going there. You see the orphanage was run by the Peacekeepers and every child was beaten up on a weekly basis. By the time they left the orphanage the kids were savage brutes who soon took over from the Peacekeepers and started beating up the children that came in, it was all part of a cruel, abusive cycle and it never-ended.

Gary stood on stage impassive, uncaring, it was hard not to feel sympathy for him. Thrown from one abusive life into another, the crowd though didn't care about an orphan as much as they did about a kid that still had parents. Kind of cruel hey? Rowena then headed to the girls draw again to choose the final female tribute. She grabbed it out and read. "Maysilee Donner!"

My first reaction was shock, shock that a person from the Seam hadn't been chosen, shock that a friend of mine had finally been chosen for the games. As she made her way up to the stage my shock turned to sadness and I wanted to make my way over to her but Dem stopped me. "The final boy has to be chosen." He stated grimly and I forced myself to stay in line rather than rush to her.

You see Maysilee Donner was one of those people that you couldn't help but be friends with, her personality was so infectious that she could probably draw a smile out of anyone on any given day. As she made her way up her sister and another girl made their way over to her, consoling her as she climbed up the stairs walking onto the stage. As she stood there next to the two children, she was already standing out from them. They say that you can see a person's true feelings through their eyes, like you know what they're truly feeling when you look into them. Looking into her eyes she was if anything, confident. That was exactly the look she was displaying and it I was so confused, why would a tribute from District Twelve be confident going into the Hunger Games?

My thoughts were dragged away from her as Rowena headed over to the boy's bowl, looking for the final tribute to select. As she grabbed the piece of paper I looked at Nile in fear. It couldn't be hi could it? There was no way that it could but by watching Maysilee Donner being picked I knew that anything could happen. As I stared at him I wondered if I would take his place, would I volunteer to be the District Twelve tribute if my brother was chosen? Would I be willing to die for my brother just so he could live an extra few years?

I didn't know, and my indecision made me feel repulsed by myself. How could I contemplate letting my brother being led like a lamb to slaughter just for others amusement. I don't know how I could yet I was doing it right here and now which would be the right decision. Volunteer and Die? Or don't volunteer and face having to live with yourself for the rest of your life? Which was worse? To be honest it shouldn't have even been a question and I don't know why I was wondering about whether I would or not. Nile turned to me again this time though he was terrified, I wonder if he was thinking the exact same thing as I was. I smiled at him, mouthed that everything would be ok and he nodded and turned as the name was read out.

I don't know why I was worrying about him the whole time when I should have been more worried about myself but hey brotherly love right? Yeah brotherly wasn't going to save anyone from anything, all it did for anyone was leave them thinking they were a good person. And being a good person wouldn't save me from this, in fact it would result in my death much quicker.

"Haymitch Abernathy!"


End file.
